Alexander 'Brand' Fraiser
by Barefoot XO
Summary: A different decision in 'Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered' leads Xander Harris on a new journey that will restore him to his real mother and will lead him on a journey to become who he was meant to be.
1. Bludgeoned, Branded and Begotten

**Alexander 'Brand' Fraiser**

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Stargate SG-1. They are owned by Joss Whedon and MGM respectively...

* * *

 **Bludgeoned, Branded and Begotten**

 _Harris Household  
Sunnydale, California  
February 14, 1998_

Xander snorted a spray of blood as he contemplated the irony of God punishing him for his virtues. Or perhaps he was being punished for having considered sinning? Whatever the answer, Xander was just damned certain that he had done nothing to deserve the beating that he was currently going through.

It had started just that morning when Cordelia had publicly broken up with him just after receiving her Valentine's gift. The entire incident had been humiliating and Xander had been determined to get her back for it. The opportunity had arisen in the form of Amy Madison casting a spell on a teacher. He went to Amy, intending to blackmail her into casting a love spell on Cordy, but changed his mind at the last minute. Instead, he merely advised Amy to be a little more careful about the type of spells she cast, reminding her of what had happened to her mother. In the end, he left school behind feeling fairly good about himself for helping a friend.

Xander groaned as another punch rocked him, rattling his teeth. Damn but Angelus could hit hard. It seemed that dear old Angel still wanted to give Buffy a Valentine's gift, and while Xander could always get behind such a thoughtful gesture, he didn't really consider his corpse to be the appropriate gift choice. Anthony and Jessica Harris were dead. They'd never really acted like parents should, but something in Xander still found it within him to regret their passing from this life, if for no other reason then the fact that no one deserves to die the way that Drusilla had ended their lives.

Xander tried to get up again, but this time he couldn't. It seemed that the jaw-rattling punch had wreaked havoc with his equilibrium. Angelus grinned at him. "Don't worry Harris. We've got all night to gift-wrap you proper for my beloved ex."

It was at that point that Xander noticed Drusilla heating up some sort of branding iron for Angelus. This was going to be a long night. "You'd better make sure you kill me right, Angie," he said around his aching jaw. "'Cause if I ever get my hands on you you're going to die screaming."

Angelus merely responded with a gut-wrenching grin. "If at first you don't succeed, die, die again…"

Xander merely spat a glob of blood at the smirking bloodsucker before the brand touched his face and he began to scream. _'Mama said there'd be days like this. I just thought they'd be while Dad was drunk…'_

* * *

 _Sunnydale Memorial Hospital  
Sunnydale, California  
February 15, 1998_

As Doctor Daniel Wilkinson prepared to go off shift he got pulled into a new case that had come in hot. "Report?"

The nurse rattled it off quickly. "Subject's name is Alexander Harris, age seventeen. He has an extensive history of small accidents that resulted in contusions and broken bones, but this is the worst we've ever seen from him. He's suffering from acute trauma, especially to the chest. He's got several broken ribs, a major concussion, numerous other broken bones and possibly a ruptured lung. And that doesn't even begin to cover the cuts, abrasions, bruises and the brand. We need to get him into the O.R. right away or we might lose him…"

"His parents have okayed the operation?"

"His parents are dead, Doctor."

"His next of kin?"

"Next of kin is Rory Harris and denies being blood kin to Mr. Harris here."

Wilkinson raised an eyebrow. "Denied being related?"

"Yes, sir. What are your orders, Doctor?"

Wilkinson thought for a long moment. "Get the boy stable and keep him there for as long as you can. Have Doctor Murray make sure to keep watch. Have one of the other nurses take a blood sample and compare it to that taken from Anthony and Jessica Harris' corpses. I want to know who he really is…"

"Yes Doctor…"

* * *

 _Stargate Command  
Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado  
February 15, 1998_

General Hammond hung up the phone and sighed, before getting up and heading to the Infirmary. It had started out as an average day. SG-1 had just returned from a mission to P3X- something or other and was being checked out by Doc Fraiser. Now it seemed he had to go to the infirmary to clear up a little bureaucratic snafu of epic proportions.

George strolled into the infirmary, glancing about to see that SG-1 appeared none the worse for wear. The worst injury was Colonel O'Neill's knee being thrown out. "Doctor Fraiser, may I see you a moment?"

Janet glanced up from the ringing lecture she had been presenting to Jack about how he'd best be babying that knee for the next week or she'd forcibly sedate him. "Yes, sir?"

"How is SG-1, Doctor?"

Janet shrugged. "Well enough to be released, sir, though I can't release Colonel O'Neill for active duty until his knee is back in business."

Hammond nodded casually. He had thoroughly expected that. "Understood, Doctor. If you're willing to release them, I'm afraid I need a private word with you."

Janet seemed to freeze up a touch at that. It was only just last week that Hathor had staged her little takeover, and most of the female personnel seemed to be having lingering worries about being punished for their assaults on their male comrades. It wasn't an entirely irrational worry. Certainly some commanders out there might have taken such a course, but George was a little hurt that the women under his command thought that he might be such a man. He knew, as well as anyone, that the women of the SGC had done extremely well and was not about to do anything but commend them. While the men of the SGC had been a touch off due to Hathor's influence, it was still incredible that the women of the command had managed to overcome them, if only due to the ratio of men to women on base being ridiculously male-slanted.

George allowed himself a mental shrug. They would get over it soon when they saw no punishments forthcoming. In fact, he had put Carter in for a commendation. "This is nothing to do with your performance of your duties, Doctor. I'm afraid a situation has come up that requires your attention.

Janet seemed to gain confidence from that and motioned him over to a secure office. "How can I help you, sir?"

George sighed. This was going to be messy. "Your son has been badly injured and needs authorisation to be given for medical care."

Janet's eyes became chips of ice. "My son is dead, General. I was told that he and Trevor died in that car crash. I remember it as though it were yesterday."

George shook his head. "DNA results don't lie, Doctor. The boy in question is your son. I don't know what sort of snafu happened that caused your little boy to wind out there, but he's sixteen these days and currently checked into Sunnydale Memorial Hospital with severe injuries. His current guardians are dead and their relatives are not willing to acknowledge him."

Janet's blood froze. "How bad is he?"

"Bad enough, Doctor. I'll bring you to the phone if you'd like and you can authorise his treatment."

Janet nodded almost mechanically. "I'm going to need some time off, sir."

"The paperwork is on my desk, Doctor. You can fill it out as soon as your phone call is over."

"Thank you, sir."

"No thanks are necessary, Doctor. It's perfectly understandable that you'd want to be there for him."

* * *

 _Sunnydale Memorial Hospital  
Sunnydale, California  
February 15, 1998_

"Doctor Wilkinson!"

Daniel glanced up in shock at the abrupt call. "Yes, Nurse?"

"We just got a call from Alexander's biological mother, Doctor Janet Fraiser. She says to do whatever is needed and she'll authorise it. She'll sign the papers as soon as she gets here but asks that you start work right away."

Wilkinson grinned. "That's the best news I've had all day. Get young Mr. Fraiser prepped for immediate surgery. Then we can finally get to doing something more then supportive care."

Another nurse licked her lips nervously. "And if the mother doesn't have proper insurance."

The doctor rolled his eyes. "She's a doctor herself, she has the means to pay for his treatment. She gave the okay over the phone, which should be more then good enough to hold up in court. I doubt very much it will be necessary. Now lets get the poor lad moving. He's waited more then long enough as it is…"

"Yes, Doctor…"

* * *

 _Sunnydale High School  
Sunnydale, California  
February 16, 1998_

"Where the heck is Xander? I haven't seen him since Valentine's Day. The naked worry in Willow's voice was prevalent.

Buffy shrugged. "Might be sick. More likely he's just sulking over Cordy dumping him. He's better off without her if you ask me."

Willow looked unhappy with the conclusion, but decided to accept it for now. And so she ignored the part of her heart that was crying out for her to check on Xander, instead going to find Oz. Besides, maybe Oz had seen him…

* * *

 _Sunnydale Memorial Hospital_  
Sunnydale, California  
February 16, 1998

Janet Fraiser was in a cold rage as she sat at the bedside of her only son. She'd been informed well over a decade ago that her son and ex-husband had died in a car crash. Now she found, to her frustration, that he had been alive all this time and no one had bothered to inform her. And if that wasn't enough to get any mother seething with rage, it was the terrible condition in which she'd found her only son. She did not blame the doctors, nor even the Harrises, but if she ever found out who had taken a branding iron to her little boy's face there would be hell to pay.

Cajun patois flew viciously from Janet 'Napoleon' Fraiser's lips as she muttered about the dire consequences to the person that had disfigured her son…

* * *

I love Jack as Xander's father, dearly. That said, I wanted to try a different angle. And so I give you the Ragin' Cajun of the Stargate-verse... :p

And for those curious what Xander will be looking like, see the version on AO3...

 _Jasper_


	2. Healing Wounds

**Chapter II: Healing Wounds**

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Stargate. They belong to Joss Whedon and MGM respectively.

The brand is the right half of the set of wings that were the symbol for Angel the Series. Check the CD cover if you want to see it. I thought the idea of only one wing worked as a symbol for Angelus, since an Angel with one wing can only be described as fallen or falling.

* * *

 _Sunnydale Memorial Hospital  
February 22nd 1998_

It was an interesting experience, feeling like he was swimming in pain, as though pain were something tangible and that you could bathe in it. It was an experience he had never truly understood before and he found it to be incredibly disturbing. If he ever experienced it again, it would be far too soon. It was in this bath of liquid pain that he finally began to notice his senses restoring themselves to full function. The increase in pain was slight but tangible and, realising that this was the only route to wakefulness, he grabbed it fiercely, knowing that he had to get away before Angelus returned.

His eyes opened slowly, blinking rapidly as the bright lights assaulted his sensitive eyes. Normally he hated waking up to the pain of bright light, but this time he relished the sensation, taking comfort from the painful rays of light that told him it was day and that Angelus must be gone from wherever he was now. He groaned loudly and shifted slightly before he thought better of it at the jolt of pain that lanced through his body. He found himself restrained, but figured it was probably more for his health then for prison. "Wha's goin' on?" he slurred out, still barely holding consciousness.

It was then that he found a woman leaning over him, a kind smile on her face as she spoke softly to him, her fairly short red hair marking her as someone he'd never seen before and her white lab-coat suggesting that she was a doctor. Something in him called out to this woman in a way that it never had to any other, even Willow and Cordy. It wasn't romantic, he could quite firmly certain of that. Granted, she was beautiful enough, but she was old enough to be his mother for God's sake. Older types were Buffy's thing, not his. Still, he couldn't deny that there was something about her that spoke to him, even without him being able to piece together whatever she was trying to say.

It mattered little at this time. Xander was pretty sure he was safe now and that would have to do. And so he tuned out the world again and returned to his slumber.

* * *

 _Crawford Street Mansion  
February 22nd 1998_

"Master."

Angelus glanced up and met the eyes of Clayton, one of his minions. "Yes?"

"The Harris kid survived, Master. A neighbour found him before he died and called the ambulance. He's currently in the hospital under heavy guard."

Angelus blinked. He had considered the possibility of Harris surviving and had decided to take the chance of leaving the boy, still alive, only to die on the doorstep as a way of making Buffy feel even more guilty then she would have if he had just been killed outright. The slow death of Harris would have been a mocking cry out to her that she had neglected her precious mortal lapdog. Angelus had figured that if Harris somehow survived that he could be finished off in the hospital. To find out that the boy was under guard was insane. "The slayer?" He could not imagine how she found the time, but it was possible he supposed.

Clayton shook his head. "No, Master. He is guarded night and day by two members of the Air Force."

Angelus felt his eyes bulge like an anime cartoon. "Air Force? What the hell does the Air Force want with guarding Harris? The cops, maybe, but the Air Force?"

Clayton shook his head. "It's the Air Force, Master."

"The dam has found my kitten. Making him safe now from all of us. No more playing with the almost naughty kitten, oh no…"

Angelus turned to Drusilla who just kept muttering and Spike who shrugged in confusion. It was so hard to find good help these days.

* * *

 _Sunnydale High School  
February 22nd 1998_

"I've waited over a week and I'm not waiting anymore. Something bad happened to him, I know it."

Giles sighed heavily at Willow's little tirade to him and Buffy and Oz. He had to mentally grant that Willow had been more then patient in waiting out what Buffy and he had been sure was a sulk over Cordelia dumping him or a bout of the flu or something simple. Perhaps it was simple denial, now that he had thought about it, but it could no longer be ignored with the threat of Angelus lurking over every doorstep, it was all too possible that Angelus had got to the boy. If so, then God help the lad, because few others would be able to manage it. "I agree. We must accept the fact that this silence is unnatural. Xander should have contacted us by now. Whether Miss Chase humiliated him or not is irrelevant. The boy simply doesn't have it in him to ignore the threats out there and so he should have spoken to someone by now. I don't like the timing of this at all."

Buffy merely nodded meekly. She had fought hard at the beginning, honestly believing that Xander just needed some time to get perspective on Cordy dumping him. The problem was that well over a week of silence was ridiculous, even for the truest love, for Xander to disappear completely. She wasn't dead, for heaven's sake. And so Buffy reluctantly agreed that this might just be very bad.

Oz, of course, just nodded agreeably. He had not argued either side of the debate, agreeing silently with both sides for the first while, though he had quickly come to join Willow's belief that Xander might be in trouble as time went by.

Willow's face was uncharacteristically grim. "I'm going to go to Xander's house and check on him. I'd like for Buffy and Oz to come with me, just in case Angelus shows up."

Giles agreed quickly, with Buffy and Oz quick to follow. This had gone on far too long. It was time to find their MIA Scooby.

* * *

 _Sunnydale Memorial Hospital  
February 23rd 1998_

Janet Fraiser sat patiently at the side of her lost son, waiting for him to return to her. The previous day it had looked like he might do it, but it seemed he hadn't quite made it, returning as he had to the realm of the unconscious.

He was very different then she remembered obviously, even ignoring the prominent brand mark on his face these days. He was far taller and broader then the four-year-old who had supposedly died in a car accident over a decade ago. He had her ex-husband's, may he burn in hell, thatch of shaggy brown hair, but he also had Janet's own molten bronze eyes, or at least he did when he was awake. He was taller then she by a lot, but then she was never very tall and he now had more injuries, old and new, due to torture or abuse then a fair number of POWs in history. Jack O'Neill had more, but he was an extreme case, as always.

Janet brushed back her son's hair to keep it out of her son's eyes. Her son. She still couldn't understand how that happened. She was going to separate a lot of heads from a lot of shoulders when she found out who was responsible for this snafu that had left her childless and her son in this dangerous little town. Even without researching it, Janet needed only to look at her son to know that something terrible lurked beneath the sleepy façade of this town. Something that was going to feel her wrath if she ever got a hold on it.

* * *

 _Sunnydale City Hall  
February 23rd 1998_

"The Air Force!"

Allan Finch flinched spectacularly. This had to have been the first time that the Mayor was ever more then slightly ruffled. He did not like the idea of unknown military elements running about without his say so. The military were very dangerous if you weren't in control of them. That tiny army base on the edge of town, where young Xander had stolen the rocket launcher, was fully under the Mayor's thumb. But elements of the Air Force in Sunnydale was bad.

Wilkins seemed to bring himself back under that powerful control of his, almost as quickly as he slipped. "Well gosh, what are the Air Force doing here in my neck of the woods, Allan? I could have sworn I gave orders that nobody was to attract them to our fair city. The little NID band that have been trying to set up a research post here are bad enough."

Allan nodded eagerly, thanking his lucky stars that this blunder couldn't be traced to him in any way. "Yes, Mister Mayor. It seems that Alexander Harris, from the slayer's gang of friends, is actually Alexander Fraiser. He's the only son of Captain Janet Fraiser, USAF. I'm not entirely certain which intelligence asset let us down on his parentage as yet, but rest assured I'll find it, sir."

Wilkins nodded amiably in response. "All right, Allan. See to it that when you figure out who's responsible that their contract is terminated with us permanently. I can't abide sloppiness on this level. Now, what can you tell me about how the good Captain discovered her beloved son, Allan?"

Allan smiled. This was even less likely to lead to his death then the last. After all, he could hardly be at fault for the rogue elements, right? "It seems that Angelus and his merry band killed the boy's supposed parents and then tortured the lad to the very edge of death. He then left the body on the front porch, where it was discovered by a neighbour."

Richard sighed in exasperation. "Honestly, you'd think that a vampire his age would have some sense. Have one of our groups inform him of our displeasure and make him understand that his highly visible torture of well-connected victims is a poor unlife choice."

Allan Finch grinned. "Yes, sir."

* * *

 _Sunnydale Memorial Hospital  
February 23rd 1998_

"What's goin' on?"

Janet jerked awake at the far more coherent muttering from her previously sleeping son. "Alex?"

Xander gave her an odd look. "It's Xander, Doc."

Janet smiled slightly. "Okay… Xander. I should tell you, though, I'm not your doctor."

Xander blinked. "Not my doctor… Then, not to be rude or anything, but why are you here?"

Janet felt tears well in her eyes as she clutched he son's hand fiercely, causing the poor boy to give her an even more quizzical look. She couldn't really blame him. "Because I thought you were dead, and I was hoping you wouldn't mind my presence here."

'Thought I was dead?' Xander's confusion redoubled as he tried desperately to figure out what was going on. "You thought I was dead… Why?"

Janet smiled sadly. "I was informed that you and your father died in a car crash."

Xander felt a chip of ice form in his stomach. "My parents were killed just yesterday, and I don't have a clue how anyone could be dumb enough to tell you they died in a car crash."

Janet had difficulty maintaining even a sad smile. "I'm afraid that the people who died when you were attacked weren't your parents, Xander." She didn't even bother to correct his assumption that he'd only been out a day. They could quibble over that another time.

Xander felt a distinct lightening in his chest at that. It didn't make accepting the idea that the people who had raised him were dead any easier, but it didn't help him to know that the people who had treated him like dirt over the years, even as they provided for him, were not his parents. "Who are they then?"

When he didn't react very emotionally to this, Janet felt a surge of hope, mixed with dread at what might cause such a fairly unemotional reaction to the idea that one's parents weren't one's parents. "As I said, your father died in a car crash and I was told that you had died with him."

'I was told…' Xander's tired mind finally made the connection. There were limited reasons why she'd be told of his death. One of the very few was the blatantly obvious. "You're my mother?"

Janet nodded, allowing another sad smile to grace her face. "Yes Alex… Xander. I'm so sorry I wasn't here when you needed me."

It was perhaps not the most ideal situation in the world, but as mother and son talked together for the first time in over a decade, they clutched fiercely at each other and finally began to heal.

* * *

 _Sunnydale High School_  
February 23rd 1998

"I thought you were checking Xander's house, Willow?"

"I did. There was police tape all over the place. I'm trying to hack into the hospital records to find out if he's there."

"Why not simply ask?"

"They won't release that kind of information to someone who isn't a relative." Willow tapped the keys in irritation. "About time. For a moment there I thought they'd removed the back door." Willow quickly scanned records. "Anthony and Jessica Harris are filed as DOAs."

Giles offered up a look of confusion. "DOAs?"

"Dead on arrival."

"Good lord. And Xander?"

"No records of Alexander Harris being admitted… but they closed his file down at the hospital."

Giles felt a cold shiver down his spine. "What does that mean?"

Willow's face was grim. "It means that they don't expect they'll ever need to use it again."

"Oh bloody hell."

* * *

I don't know anything about hospital procedures, and I doubt what I've written is true, but for the purposes of this fic, Alexander Fraiser was the one admitted, not Alexander Harris. And since Alexander Harris was now considered Fraiser, his file was copied into Alexander Fraiser's and then closed permanently... Hope nobody minds my little device...

Jasper


	3. Reckoning

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Stargate SG-1. They belong to Joss Whedon and MGM respectively.

* * *

 **Chapter III: Reckoning**

 _Sunnydale_ _Memorial Hospital_

 _March 9_ _th_ _1998_

In the end it took an embarrassingly long time for Buffy, Willow and Giles to track down Xander. It had been nearly a month since his incapacitation at Angelus' hands. It had taken some very risky and illegal hacking, performed by Willow in a fit of desperation, before they had finally gotten answers. Xander's name change to Fraiser had certainly muddied the waters, leaving Willow really confused for quite some time. Finally, though, the trio arrived at Xander's hospital room. Oz had stayed behind, reasoning that he and Xander weren't really close enough for him to intrude.

The first thing to really give the three pause, other then the fact that they had taken so long to arrive at this point, was the two airmen standing guard outside Xander's door. While Willow had found hints of Air Force involvement during her hacking, including the fact that Xander's mother was an Air Force officer, they hadn't realised the woman in question had the clout to get a guard placed on Xander. Buffy, of course, was the one to have the courage to beard the eagles in their nest. "Ummm… Hi, we're friends of Xander's. Is it okay if we see him for a bit?"

One airman looked Buffy up and down, quickly appearing to dismiss her as a threat. He relaxed slightly and turned to the door muttering, "One moment please." The other airman remained in a relaxed, watchful stance. He did not shift his gaze off of the three Scoobies. Airman number one slipped into the room and some soft talking could be heard from inside. They could make out the airman, Xander and two women speaking, though none of them could really hear what was said.

After what seemed like forever, it was only five minutes, the airman, a red-haired woman and a young blonde girl came out. The redheaded eyed the three with a gimlet eye and softly spoke to them. "Go easy on him. He's had a rough time these past few weeks." The hidden threat and less-then hidden reproach stung the Scoobies, but there was little they could really say in return. Instead, they chose to enter Xander's room.

Xander was looking distinctly better then he had when he first arrived at the hospital. This was little comfort to his friends. Xander had multiple limbs in casts and a livid brand across one cheek. Most of his more obvious injuries like cuts and bruises had healed well enough to leave him otherwise unmarked. "Well, well, well. I've gotta say that I was beginning to wonder if I had any friends at all."

The communal flinch from the Scooby Gang was not exactly subtle. They were well aware that they had drastically dropped the ball where he was concerned. Buffy managed to cut off Willow before a babble of epic proportions was released until Willow collapsed from lack of air. "It was my fault, Xander. I thought, at the time, that you just needed some time to yourself after what happened on Valentine's Day." Seeing clearly that Xander was unimpressed she hurried on. "After that we tried to find you, but we were kinda sidetracked by all the changes in your name and such. It just… well… one thing led to another and three weeks had passed."

"It was Angelus, Buffy." Xander's soft tone filled the room.

Buffy flinched again. "I'm sorry, Xander. This is all my fault…"

"This is _not_ your fault, Buffy." Xander's voice was surprisingly firm and lacked the accusatory element that it sometimes did when Angel and Angelus came up. "You had no way of knowing that what you did was going to cause this. That's not to say that I think that doing what you did was in any way healthy, but my injuries were not your fault." Buffy relaxed slightly. This proved to be too soon. "Where all three of you dropped the ball was when you failed to check on me quickly, once you realized I was missing from school. Angelus was in our circle, Buffy. Every one of your friends and loved ones is fair game for him."

Buffy felt tears coming down her face at the placid, yet stern, rebuke. Xander had obviously spent a long time thinking the rebuke through, time that she had unwittingly given him because she had chosen to dismiss his absence as hurt over Cordelia. She had been half right. It had certainly been hurt that had kept him out of school. "I'm sorry, Xander. I'll do anything to make it right, anything."

Xander was silent for a painfully long moment. "Apology accepted, Buff. To make this right, you and Giles need to tell Joyce about the slaying and everything that goes along with it."

Giles' back stiffened and he immediately began his own quiet tirade. "Now see here, Xander. You know that Buffy cannot reveal the nature of her calling to…"

"Not interested, Giles," Xander interrupted. "Things have changed. Leaving Joyce out of the loop before was questionable at best, when you consider where we live. Leaving her out now is a guaranteed death sentence. What happened with Darla could happen even easier with Angelus, and we don't have blind luck to save her this time. And what about Dawn? Joyce has a right to understand the true nature of the threat you all face, Giles."

"You all face…" Willow muttered, speaking up for the first time since she had entered the room. "Xander… You're not dying, are you?" The very idea of Xander, practically the other half of her soul, dying filled Willow with horror.

Xander sighed. "No, Willow, I'm not dying. The Evil Dead tried his best, but he got cocky when he decided to let me die slowly. The reason I'm not going to face the threat Angelus represents is because I won't be in Sunnydale much longer. I'm moving out to Colorado Springs." Willow's look of genuine horror was met with a sympathetic expression. "I'm sorry, Wills, but my Mom and sister live in Colorado Springs. I can't ask them to just uproot their lives there so that I can get into all kinds of danger with you guys. It wouldn't be fair to them."

"What will I do without you?" Willow's voice was barely audible, even to Buffy, but somehow Xander understood her as he wrapped his good arm around his oldest friend. "You'll have Buffy and Oz and Giles, Wills. And you'll still have me, too. We're still gonna talk regularly online. It's gonna be up to you to help teach me all that computer stuff that you love so that we can keep in touch."

Willow pulled closer and just hugged her friend close, as Buffy and Giles watched on. It felt like she was losing her best friend since forever, but some small part of her couldn't help but be glad he was finally escaping his terrible parents and the spectre of darkness the hung over Sunnydale. Maybe all this was for the best…

* * *

And we're back, folks…

Jasper


	4. Poor Unlife Choice

I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Stargate SG-1. They belong to Joss Whedon and MGM respectively.

* * *

 **Poor Unlife Choice**

 _Crawford Street Mansion  
March 10th 1998_

Angelus was currently gritting his fangs in frustration. Xander Harris was still alive and, by all accounts, healing up nicely. Worse still, the Air Force presence outside his room made any attack extremely problematic. Angelus had lived long enough that he wasn't about to underestimate well-trained and physically capable individuals, however mortal they might be. He had considered going after another of the slayer's friends, but news of Xander's severe injuries was making them extremely cautious. Turning Theresa Klusmeyer had been nowhere near as psychologically effective as he had hoped.

"Bloody hell, ya grand poof! You're brooding almost as bad as yer whining alter ego."

Angelus spun about and growled threateningly at Spike, looming over the vampire in the wheelchair. "Mind your own business, Spike! I'm trying to decide what play to go for with the slayer in our great game."

The blond snorted derisively. "You've been at a standstill for the better part of a month, Master. Methinks you're a wee bit rusty at this whole terror thing. What's wrong, Angie? The Scourge of Europe lost his spark?"

Bloodlust shone dangerously in Angelus' eyes as he loomed over his subordinate. "What about you, Spike? The great William the Bloody, reduced to rolling around and relying on his Master for food…?"

"Well, well, well… I can see that I'm interrupting, but I don't really much care about that."

Angelus spun away from Spike, surprised to find a vampire he didn't recognize had penetrated so deeply into his well-defended mansion. "Who in the hell are you?"

"Lenny? Is that you?" Spike spoke up from the chair, surprised to see the vampire too. "I thought that the slayer had gotten to you."

The dark-haired vamp grinned slightly. "Naw, Spike. I just found myself a new boss." Lenny turned an ugly look on Angelus. "You've gone and done it this time, Angelus. You're attracting dangerous attention on this town. The boss wants to see you, immediately."

Angelus leveled a disdainful look at the minion. "I'm the Scourge of Europe, boy. I was draining slayers dry long before your master was ever turned. If you think you can take me in, you're welcome to try."

Lenny smiled. "I think I will, at that." The smile morphed into a nasty smirk. "Take him, boys!"

Angelus was shocked and appalled when a number of physically powerful demons entered the room and began a severe beating that left Angelus barely conscious. "Tha's not the was it's s'posed to be." His slurred speech came off as almost whiny to the vampires and demons present.

Lenny just shook his head in disgust. How the mighty had fallen. "Nobody cares about fair play anymore, Angelus. It's results that matter in this day and age. Maybe if you'd been active as more than a whiny emo kid in the last hundred years, you'd understand that." The vamp turned back to his former boss. "As for you, Spike, I'm letting you off with a warning for old time's sake. Your brand of mayhem is no longer welcome on the hellmouth. Take your crazy broad and get out of town."

Spike was left gaping in his wheelchair, wondering when the game had changed on the hellmouth.

* * *

 _City Hall  
March 10th 1998_

Richard Wilkins was cutting into a delightful steak in the lunchroom when he glanced up to see Angelus being dragged into his presence. He noted, somewhat disapprovingly, that Angelus was bleeding. "Come, come, Lenny. You know better then to drip blood onto the carpets. Bloodstains are frightfully expensive to clean out, you know. Not to mention unsanitary."

The vampire offered a contrite expression. "So sorry about that, Mr. Mayor. It's just that Angelus here wasn't inclined to be cooperative, and I knew you wanted to see him right away. It won't happen again."

The mayor nodded approvingly. "Good man. Make sure to see maintenance about lifting those stains as soon as we're done here, won't you? I simply cannot abide unsightly bloodstains. Messy, messy, messy…" The mayor turned his focus on his guest. "Hello, Angelus. Welcome to City Hall. I had hoped to discuss things under more pleasant circumstances but, needs must."

The battered master vampire snorted blood onto the floor in disgust. It was the most he could accomplish under the circumstances. The demons that were holding him were being very careful to allow him no leverage with which to escape and kill the people responsible for his current humiliation. "You know I had figured Lenny was working for some jumped up young master vampire, horning on my turf. Obviously I overestimated his talent if he's bowing and scraping to a… what's that term Spike likes to use? A walking Happy Meal. That's it. How does it feel to be fetching and carrying for a human, Lenny?"

The vampire that was being addressed looked at the additional blood stains Angelus had produced. "You've been out of the loop too long, Angelus. That much is certain. The mayor is the boss of Sunnydale's underworld. Anyone not on his payroll either toes the line or dies."

Angelus chuckled at that. "Then why is the slayer still operating in this town after over a year then, huh? Because the mayor is weak." Angelus was slightly disturbed to see everyone in attendance, bar the mayor, flinch at that last declaration.

The mayor merely smiled genially. "Well gosh, Angelus. It seems that you have all of the answers. You might almost think that the people who cross me don't almost always run afoul of the slayer when they do."

That had Angelus' head snapping up as he leveled a searching look at the mayor, finally giving a sign that Wilkins might actually be a threat.

Richard's smile never wavered. "Oh yes, Angelus. The slayer is well under my control. Oh not directly, you understand, but a teenage girl with little experience can be guided in the right direction if one knows the art of subtlety. It's certainly not a perfect system, I'll grant you, but the odd employee that she executes is a fair enough price to see my enemies swept away."

A faint hardening of the mayor's eyes had everyone in the room, including Angelus, shuddering. "And speaking of subtlety, Angelus, I think we need to address your own severe lack of that very virtue. I run a quiet little town here, Angelus, and I'm afraid I don't much approve of military presence here when I'm not in full control of it. Such attention as you are bringing upon my little berg might constitute a rather poor unlife choice on your part. Do we understand each other, Angelus?"

The vampire would probably have been sweating at that point if he'd been physically capable of it. "So you want me out of town. Is that it? Or do you plan to just dust me?" Angelus coiled his body like a spring, gathering every last ounce of leverage he could in a desperate attempt to escape his captors. It was all for naught. The demons simply weren't letting him have the needed leverage.

Wilkins managed to offer up a faintly shocked expression, as if he found the whole idea of murder to be appalling. Angelus found it less than convincing at that point. "Oh good golly, no! That simply would not do at all. If you were to disappear, whether it be out of town or into a vacuum cleaner, it would leave the Air Force searching my little town for you. I'm sure you can understand that I need you whole and present in order to… throw the military a little bone to chew on."

"You're going to hand me over to the military?" Angelus had officially heard everything. That was easily the dumbest plan he had ever heard. He'd be out of Air Force custody in the time it took him to snap his cuffs and run for the hills.

The mayor patted his lips with a napkin, having finished his lunch, and stood up from the table. He walked calmly over to a cabinet and withdrew a crystal vial that had a bright blue liquid within it. "Are you familiar with killer of the dead, Angelus?"

Angelus paled, revealing to all present that he had. "You're not going to use that on me." The statement was weak indeed.

Another genial smile crossed Richard's face. "Of course not, Angelus. We've already established that dusting you would be a useless gesture for me." The man inserted a needle into the vial and drew the blue liquid out. "This particular liquid was designed by the same person who invented killer of the dead. It's called Medusa's kiss. This dandy little liquid is a paralytic, Angelus. It is made specifically to work on the undead and it is believed to be quite permanent." The chilly look returned to Wilkins' gaze. "You see, Angelus, the Air Force will be needing a body to satisfy their investigation into young Alexander's unfortunate injuries." He tapped the tip of the needle thoughtfully. "Never fear, Angelus. I'll be sure to include your sacrifice for my cause when I'm writing my memoirs."

The needle was duly inserted and Angelus was rendered stiff as a… well a corpse, really. Wilkins smiled. "Excellent. It's good to see that's working properly. Lenny, if you would be so good as to inflict a fatal-looking wound upon this vampire, outside of course, then you may deliver him to the morgue. That should be enough to get the Air Force off of my doorstep."

"Of course, Sir."

"And Lenny… Don't forget to call maintenance about those stains. The longer they're there, the more likely they'll never come out. We wouldn't want that, now would we?"

"Of course not, Mr. Mayor. I'll see to it immediately."

"Good man."

* * *

Is Wilkins setting up Angelus to essentially be buried alive (or undead) for all eternity as punishment for causing him problems? Why yes... I believe he is. *shudders*

Jasper


End file.
